


“I Saved You, Tommy. Be Grateful.”

by always_an_anxious_mess, Ecinue



Series: and if you can stay then i’ll show you the way [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Burning, Child Abuse, Dissociation, Drowning, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gaslighting, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulation, Memory Loss, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Shock, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Verbal Abuse, Villian Dream (Video Blogging RPF), WARNING THIS IS VERY DARK, guilt tripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/always_an_anxious_mess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecinue/pseuds/Ecinue
Summary: 5 times Dream “saved” Tommy, and the one time someone else did.———WARNING! READ THE TAGS! THIS IS VERY DARK AND NOT SOMETHING I NORMALLY WRITE!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND STAY SAFE!
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: and if you can stay then i’ll show you the way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114571
Comments: 192
Kudos: 1429
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Jester's Collection





	1. Chapter 1

> **1.**

“Give me your armor, Tommy.”

This was a reoccurring theme with Dream. “Give me your shit, Tommy”, “Armor and tools in the hole, Tommy”, “Put your stuff in the pit, Tommy”. It was fuckin’ repetitive as shit and Tommy was sick and tired of it.

“I’m not doin’ that shit,” Tommy spat, fingers reflexively digging into the edges of the iron chest plate he wore. “I worked my ass off for this. I spent a whole day mining for this. No.”

“Armor and tools in the pit,” Dream said again, the mask he always wore hiding his face but not hiding the frustration in his voice.

“Fuck off. No,” Tommy grinned. If there were two things he was good at, it was pissing people off and not doing what he was told. That’s what got him into this whole mess, wasn’t it? That’s what put him in this shithole, with the green pissbaby.

“Put it in the pit,” Dream’s voice pitched lower, and his netherite sword raised up and pointed dangerously at Tommy’s throat. Everything about the green hooded man screamed DANGER in the lizard part of Tommy’s brain. But he’d ignored instincts from there before, he wasn’t afraid of doing it again.

Tommy swallowed nervously, his smile faltering for a moment before, breaking out into a grin once more, this one noticeably more forced and less confident. “No, Dream. I don’t think I will.”

Dream tilted his head at him, in a way that made Tommy even more nervous and instantly ran a shiver up his spine.

Dream had stopped him from jumping in the lava before. What had he said again? It wasn’t his time to die? If that was true, which it probably was because Dream was his friend—

Dream was NOT his friend. Dream was an arsehole. Dream was the reason he was exiled.

Regardless, if any of those things were true, Dream wouldn’t kill him now. Not when he’d gone through so much trouble to keep him alive.

That didn’t mean that Tommy wasn’t slightly, ever so slightly scared about what the guy was planning.

The fuckin’ mask didn’t help either. God, Tommy hated that thing. Every time he saw the stupid thing it made him think of an arrow in his ribs, of falling into water, of laughter and withers and the smell of gunpowder and obsidian.

It covered Dream’s face in its entirety. If not for the blonde hair poking out from beneath Dream’s hood, Tommy would’ve thought the guy wasn’t even human.

The head tilt made him seem more animal than human. It made Tommy instinctively want to shrivel up into a ball. But Tommy refused to do that. He was a big man. He had fought against Dream and won several times before. What’s so different now?

~~_You had other people to back you up back then,_~~ a traitorous part of his mind whispered, and Tommy shoved it down with an internal scowl. He didn’t need anyone else. He could take Dream just fine on his own, thank you very much. He’d fought TECHNO before. Sure, he lost, but he still held out for a while. That’s got to be proof of something.

The netherite sword was still pointed at his throat. If it was just a few inches closer, it’d be pressed against his skin. God, Tommy could practically feel the burn of the cool metal combined with the fire aspect of the sword already.

He kept his gaze locked on Dream’s mask, specifically on the two little dots that represented the eyes of the smiley face.

Dream was completely still. His hand didn’t shake in the slightest. Another thing that made him seem more animal than human. Another thing that just seemed to send another shiver down his spine and make the lizard part of his brain scream at him to run.

Then, Dream moved.

Tommy’s eyes immediately went to Dream’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding the sword. The one that snatched a potion that was attached to his belt. The one that shattered the potion at Tommy’s feet. The one that pulled back as Dream retreated in order to avoid the fumes of the potion.

Tommy tried to get away, the stench of the potion sickly sweet and burning his throat and lungs. His feet tripped over themselves, sending him sprawling.

His body grew numb, his eyelids heavy. Moving felt impossible, but he struggled to push himself up with trembling, near unresponsive limbs.

He knew what it was now. The sickly sweet scent gave it away, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it until its affects gave him no choice.

Weakness.

Tommy struggled to keep his eyes open as he stared up at Dream, visibly shaking.

Dream approached him, standing just above him with his sword pointed at Tommy’s throat once more. His head tilted, just like before.

Then his sword raised.

Tommy’s eyes widened as it came back down, swiftly swiping across him. The purplish black blade was now dripping red, but Tommy didn’t know where it had gone. Where had all the blood come from?

Then he realized he couldn’t breathe.

His hands flew up to his throat and eyes towards the bright sky, finding his neck slick with a warm liquid. The potion? Surely not.

His chest heaved, but no air went into it as Tommy clutched at his throat, fingers searching around and slipping in the warm liquid until they found something.

A gap.

His fingers sank into the gap, the walls of it warm and pulsing beneath his fingertips.

Only then did he feel the pain.

He would have howled, if he had the oxygen or the ability to do so in general. The only thing that came from his mouth were a series of wet gurgles as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

It hurt. It hurt so much and there was so much fucking blood. It was all over his hands and staining his once-white shirt a dark crimson and there was too much of it, too much of it. He tried to apply pressure, pressing down though he knew it was hopeless.

Black spots were dancing at the edge of his vision and he couldn’t DO anything. Warm, metallic liquid that he instinctively knew was blood was welling up in his mouth but he couldn’t spit it out, because he didn’t have the air in his lungs to do so. He couldn’t BREATHE.

Another pathetic gurgling noise came from his mouth as tears rolled down from the corners of his eyes. His gaze shifted to Dream, who was still staring down at him impassively.

One of his weak, trembling hands reached towards him and thumped on one of Dream’s boots. He forced himself to do it again, mouth moving and only choked noises coming from it.

Please.

He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not by Dream’s hands. Please no. No.

His hand thumped once more on Dream’s boot.

Tommy was begging for his life without words. He just desperately hoped that Dream understood and would show him mercy. He didn’t want to die like this. Please.

Please.

His vision was growing fuzzier. It was getting harder to focus. He knew what this meant. He’d done this before. Twice, actually.

His eyelids fluttered and his whole body jerked, trying to get air in his lungs but failing.

He was going to die.

Then, the shattering of bottles filled his ears. He could smell something other than the metallic scent of blood. It smelled like flowers and fruit and sour candy. When was the last time he had sour candy? That sounded nice.

His lips trembled slightly as he fought to breathe for another few seconds, feeling something warm yet numb spread over his neck. His nostrils flared and his mouth stretched open because—

There was air!

He could breathe again!

Tommy inhaled greedily, coughs racking his body. He rolled over and spat out whatever was plaguing him, leaving a metallic taste in the back of his throat.

He lay there, propped up on his elbows and his eyes squeezed shut as he just BREATHED.

When he had recovered a bit more, one of his hands reached up and he tentatively ran his fingers across his throat where the wound had been. Nothing remained, except for a thick, rough, jagged line that ran across the width of his throat in a kind of sick second smile.

He rolled back over and onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows and looking up at Dream with wide, clearly fearful eyes.

Dream was still staring at him without a care in the world, bloodstained sword hung loosely at his side.

“You’re welcome,” Dream said.

Anger rolled through Tommy, and he opened his mouth to snap something back, about how DREAM was the one who almost killed him. And now he expected Tommy to be grateful that he reversed his own actions?! That was such fucking bullshit! “Your welcome”???? What the fuck was wrong with him?!

But nothing came out of his mouth. The words died somewhere on their way out. The only thing that was audible that came from him was a quiet, almost inaudible rasp that scratched the inside of his windpipe and made his vocal cords throb.

His hand flew up to his throat with wide eyes, and he tried to speak again, only to be met with the same noise.

“I dumped about four regen on you,” Dream said simply, as if Tommy wasn’t freaked out enough. “Whatever’s wrong with your voice will clear up, I’m sure.”

FOUR REGEN?! WAS DREAM TRYING TO KILL HIM?!

Potions used back to back could make your body shut down. Especially ones with contrasting effects. The weakness potion was still beating in his system sluggishly, the four regen potions that had apparently been used on him were keeping the symptoms of it at bay.

Tommy glared at Dream something fierce, and Dream only tilted his head again, making Tommy instantly look away.

Something sharp poked into his arm, digging hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin. Tommy knew without knowing that it was the sword Dream had just almost killed him with.

“Be grateful I saved you,” Dream said pleasantly, and Tommy could practically here the smile in his voice. “If you keep this up, maybe next time I won’t be as merciful.”

Tommy nodded, his fingers tracing the line that now adorned his neck.

He could only listen as he heard Dream leave, boots crunching through the dry and brittle grass, before the whirling sound of the nether portal started up and faded away, taking Dream with it.

* * *

“Tommy’s been quiet recently.”

Phil looked up in confusion at Ghostbur, who was flitting around in circles humming to himself with blue dye clutched in his hands.

“How so?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. He hadn’t checked up on Tommy yet. He felt bad, truly, but with Techno needing help around his new base, he just hadn’t had the time.

“When I was in Logstedshire with him yesterday, it’s like he couldn’t talk,” Ghostbur hummed. “He kept coughing too, and holding his neck. Do you reckon he might be sick? Should I give him some blue so he’ll feel better?”

“Sick? I suppose,” Phil frowned. “Do you want me to send some stew with you to help him out?”

Ghostbur grinned, and Phil tried not to stare at the blue stained teeth of his now-dead son. “I’m sure Tommy would love that!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW//suicide ideation, abuse, manipulation**
> 
> Written by R, Formatted by Eci.

> **2.**

The heat of the nether was stifling.

It always had been, technically, but Tommy couldn’t help but find a form of comfort from the warmth. Logstedshire was cold because of the gradually approaching winter and, living in a tent with no fireplace, Tommy was always cold there. The nether was a nice relief from that, even though it was dangerous to stay more than a few hours.

Was it really the heat that he found comfort in, though? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps the comfort he found was staring at the lava beneath the bridge he stood on.

He thought about jumping down there quite a lot, letting the lava consume him until there was nothing left. Leaving not even a body for those who loved him to bury.

But then again, he didn’t have anyone who loved him anymore. No one had come to visit in at least a week and a half. No one except Dream anyhow, but Dream didn’t count.

 _ ~~Dream’s your friend—~~_ Dream’s a prick with nothing better to do than to rub it in Tommy’s face that he was stuck in that shithole he oh so affectionately called Logstedshire.

Tommy remembered the incident of a few weeks ago. How could he forget? His voice still wasn’t the same. It was more hoarse, and a lot quieter. His “yelling” now was only barely louder than his regular speaking voice had been beforehand.

He ran his fingers absentmindedly over the wool he wrapped around his neck. He had started doing that when Ranboo had visited him once and asked about the thick, jagged scar that now ran along the width of his throat. Tommy didn’t have an answer. Wrapping the wool around his neck meant that no one could really ask questions about the scar. If they did ask about the bandage though, he just said that he got scratched by a branch or something.

Not that anyone had been around enough to ask lately.

It was kind of funny to him, in a morbid, hysterical kind of way. The way he had begged Dream for his life, but now he just wanted to end it. End it on his own terms, though. Not Dream’s. He’ll be damned before he let’s Dream take his last life, not after he’d taken the first two.

The heat from the lava was wafting over him. He was a good deal above it, maybe a hundred feet, though Tommy had never been good at estimating that sort of thing. Just _one step_ and his world will turn to fire.

It would hurt, he knew. Of course it would. It would probably be agony, the worst physical pain he’d ever feel. But that pain would only last so long before his nerves fried, along with everything else in his body.

Tommy was about to take that step, about to stretch his foot out over empty air and let himself fall with closed eyes and a hopeless smile on his face when a hand dug into his shoulder and ripped him away from the edge.

He stumbled, falling on the hot netherrack. His body was much weaker it had been before his exile. He was losing muscle mass quickly, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Starvation will do that to you.

He pushed himself to his feet on trembling legs, turning to glare angrily at whoever had pulled him away from the ledge.

Dream was standing where Tommy had just been, staring at him.

His expression was unreadable, as always, because of the mask. His body language seemed relaxed, if not a bit annoyed.

“It’s not your time to die, Tommy,” Dream chided, in a tone that made it sound like he was scolding a naughty child.

“Fuck off,” Tommy said hoarsely, glaring at the stupid fucking mask. His death stare wasn’t as effective when he couldn’t see Dream’s face.

“Let’s go back to Logstedshire,” Dream said, in a way that made it clear that it was not a suggestion.

“Fuck. Off,” Tommy repeated, eyes narrowing. “I don’t have any goddamn armor or anything for you to burn this time. You don’t have a reason to hang around. Now, Fuck. Off.”

“Let’s go to Logstedshire, Tommy,” Dream said again, his voice pitching lower in a more dangerous tone.

Tommy laughed, full of bitterness. He was fucking exhausted, both physically and mentally. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t?” He asked, a tired, dry smirk on his face. “Kill me? You’ll only be doing me a favor and you know it.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. He didn’t want to die by Dream’s hands, but hey. At this point, he would take what he could get.

Dream didn’t respond, unsettlingly still and silent for several moments.

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being dragged by his hair across burning netherrack, pain radiating from his scalp.

Dream had a handful of Tommy’s tangled, overgrown hair and was pulling him along by it, seeming unaffected by the teen’s struggles. Tommy cried out (though it wasn’t very loud), thrashing back and forth with his hand clutching at Dream’s, asking desperately to be let go. The pain, despite not being the worst Tommy had felt, sent pinpricks of tears into his eyes as flailed around.

His attempts to stop Dream were useless. Tommy, even without a weakness potion, was not as strong as he used to be. If he had been eating properly, he probably would’ve been able to free himself, but alas that was not the case.

So Tommy was only able to kick and (slightly) scream and thrash and hope that Dream would let him go.

He felt the swirling nausea of using a portal before he saw it. His eyes had shut at some point, though he hadn’t been aware of it.

Then, a split second later, the chill of the overworld washed over him, and he felt grass on his legs. Dream still didn’t let him go, however, dragging him across the grass before finally dropping him unceremoniously on the ground.

Tommy immediately forced his eyes open and tried to scramble to his feet, but only received a kick to his head for his efforts, knocking him back down.

“You want to jump into that lava, Tommy?” Dream’s voice seemed to hold concern in it, though Tommy knew that it was condescension.

There was a strike of metal against rock as Tommy fought away the dizziness that plagued him, forcing himself onto his hands and knees as he blinked in confusion at what was in front of him. He could only see Dream’s dark pants and his boots.

Tommy was not so gently shoved back onto the ground and forced onto his back. He struggled uselessly as Dream’s knees pinned his arms to the ground, effectively straddling him uncomfortably.

“Dream—” Tommy croaked but was effectively silenced by Dream resting a hand on Tommy’s throat, not firmly, but enough for Tommy to instinctively still in fear.

“Shh,” Dream cooed, grabbing a potion from his belt and uncorking it. Tommy glanced at it and recognized the color as another fucking potion of weakness. Oh god. Dream was going to do it again. Fuck. “This is for your own good.”

Tommy’s mouth clamped shut immediately, and his nostrils flared, glaring at Dream with the small amount of stubbornness he had left.

Dream made a small ticking noise in disapproval, removing his hand from Tommy’s throat and pinching his nose shut.

Well fuck.

Tommy tried to struggle again, eyes flicking fearfully between Dream and the potion. His heart started to race because he couldn’t BREATHE he was going to DIE he couldn’t open his mouth because that potion would only bring PAIN.

Dream was unaffected by the thrashing boy beneath him, only calmly keeping Tommy’s nose pinched shut and holding the potion with his other hand.

Eventually, the teen’s body made his decision for him, and his mouth opened to inhale a gulp of air.

But Dream was quicker, and Tommy choked as the bittersweet potion was violently poured down his throat. He tried not to swallow, truly, but he did so instinctively despite his efforts.

The potion didn’t take long to go into effect. Tommy’s struggles grew weaker and his frantic attempt to escape just slowed until he was just laying there, heart racing, staring up at Dream and trembling in fear.

Tommy could practically picture the grin Dream must have had. The masked man slid off of him, keeping one hand on his chest to keep him down. Tommy tried to peel Dream’s hand off of him, but he couldn’t get his limbs to respond correctly.

“This is for your own good,” Dream cooed.

And that’s when Tommy saw the torch.

Dream was now holding a lit torch with his free hand, and the flames were too bright for Tommy to look at. He flinched away as Dream brought it near, the heat of the small fire licking at his skin.

“This is for your own good.”

That was the only warning he got before agony exploded into his side. The torch was being pressed flush against his skin, and the flames were eating at him. It hurt, it hurt so so bad.

A guttural wail tore itself from Tommy’s throat, louder than any noise he had been able to make recently. His windpipe throbbed from it.

The sickening smell of burnt meat made its way through the air, and Tommy tried not to think about how that was because of HIM. Because of what was happening to him.

He tried to fight, tried to scramble away from the torch and away from Dream and away from the agony, but he couldn’t. His limbs jerked but didn’t respond when he tried to use them.

Tears were running down his face and his eyes were screwed shut and he was hyperventilating, but he didn’t CARE. It hurt so bad. Please make it stop.

The torch withdrew, but the pain still stayed, and Tommy still sobbed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” A hand brushed the hair out of Tommy’s face and cupped his cheek in a comforting way. “This is for your own good, Tommy.”

Tommy didn’t want to listen to that. He didn’t want this. His head shook from side to side, faster and faster, trying to say no, no, _no_. It wasn’t for his own good. It HURT.

“This is how it would feel if you jumped in the lava, Tommy.” The voice cooed. It was Dream. Tommy knew instinctively that it was Dream. But how could it be Dream? Dream never sounded so nice, so sympathetic, so COMFORTING. It couldn’t be Dream. It couldn’t be.

The smell of burning meat resumed as the torch was now pressed against one of his thighs, and another wail came from Tommy’s mouth, feeling as if it was jabbing a thousand knives into his throat.

“It would feel just like this, so awful,” the voice crooned. “It would be all over. Do you still want to jump in the lava, Tommy?”

Tommy had to imagine that the voice was right. Jumping in the lava would hurt a lot like this. But, if he jumped in lava, it would be over in just a few seconds, right?

As if Dream knew what he was thinking, the torch moved and pressed against his other thigh, and the resulting shriek from Tommy sounded more animalistic than anything else.

“Do you still want to jump in the lava, Tommy?” The voice asked again, still gentle. Why wasn’t whoever that was HELPING him? Why weren’t they saving him from Dream?

The torch moved once more, this time to his left shoulder and pressing down.

Tommy screamed, sounding hoarse and broken.

“Do you still want to jump in the lava, Tommy?”

Before he could stop himself, he found words tearing themselves from his lips as he sobbed from the agony.

“No. No I don’t. Please. Please stop I’ll do anything. Please. I won’t even go back into the nether again. Please stop. Please. I won’t jump in the lava. I don’t want to jump in the lava. Please just stop. Please—” Tommy babbled, voice quieter and scratchier than what had become usual.

The torch withdrew, but the pain lingered, and Tommy still cried. He wished he could force his eyes open, force his limbs to move, he wished he could do ANYTHING.

The smell of sour candy was back in the air as the pain started to numb. Tommy kept his eyes shut as his trembling body began to heal, breathing in short, gasping breaths.

He let out a hoarse, barely audible screech when he was pulled into a sitting position. Arms pulled him against a warm chest, one hand on the back of his head and one wrapped around his back.

Tommy stayed rigid as his bare chest pressed up against scratchy cloth. His eyes peeled open and found the new shirt he had woven for himself after the bleeding incident torn in half and on the grass where he had been laying.

“It was for your own good,” Dream crooned, in the same gentle, comforting voice that Tommy had heard earlier. “I had to save you. Save you from making such an awful, impulsive decision. I care about you, Tommy. I saved you, from yourself.”

Tommy didn’t reply, unable to process what was currently happening. Dream was being comforting, but Dream was the one who had hurt him. He was providing warmth and comfort when all the masked man radiated was danger and pain. A small part of Tommy’s brain shrieked at him to pull away, but he couldn’t.

Maybe it was because of the weakness potion, but Tommy just felt so numb. His brain felt like mush and it wasn’t running the way it should.

Tommy wasn’t sure how long he stayed there for, listening to Dream pour comforting words that he couldn’t make sense of. He couldn’t pull away. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted

* * *

Sapnap didn’t know why the hell he decided to visit Tommy in exile again. The first time had just been for shits and giggles, poking fun of the kid for a bit. It was all fun and games.

But when he came back to the nether with Ghostbur the first time he visited and found Dream shoving Tommy to the ground, with Tommy spitting out something like “I’m never gonna die” or something like that, he had to admit he was slightly worried.

Dream wouldn’t hurt Tommy... would he?

Tommy was just a kid. Sure, the whole war thing had taken two of Tommy’s lives, but it had escalated a lot. Dream hadn’t had a choice!

_Right?_

But when he showed up at the shithole of a place Tommy called “Logstedshire” and saw the teen... his heart had dropped.

Tommy looked AWFUL. He had bandages wrapped around his throat and he wore a scrappy, loose-fitting wool shirt that looked like he made himself. The collar was too wide, and it showed the scar of a burn across the boy’s left collarbone.

That scar definitely hadn’t been there before.

Tommy had chased him out with a hoarse, quiet, angry voice. He hadn’t wanted to see him. Sapnap didn’t blame him.

Tommy was _fine_.

Dream wouldn’t hurt a kid, especially one on his last life.

Sapnap was just overreacting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ello! Eci here~~ I'm just here to format this fic and provide snippets and ideas via Twitter! <3 Dw, I'll write soon. You peeps will just have to wait~~
> 
> Go check out R! They're amazing~~ Complete Vouch!
> 
> -Eci


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW//drowning, choking, manipulation**

> **3.**

“I still don’t know why they wouldn’t come.”

Tommy knew he was being repetitive with this, but he just couldn’t get over the fact that not a single person showed up. He had sat there, at the table with his cake getting sunburned, waiting, for hours. Not even Dream showed up until late afternoon, multiple hours late.

“They just don’t care about you, Tommy,” Dream sounded annoyed. It was probably the fifth or sixth time Dream had said that same statement.

Tommy didn’t want to believe it, but some part of his mind knew that Dream had to be right. What other reason could it be? No one came.

NO ONE CAME.

“But WHY?” Tommy demanded. “It was a party! Everybody loves parties! Even if they didn’t want to come in order to see me, you’d think they want to have fun at a party! It would’ve been great! They would’ve had a blast.”

“I came, that’s all you need,” Dream said stiffly.

Tommy snorted. “You don’t count! And whoever heard of a two-person party anyway? No one, because two people isn’t a party. It’s a fuckin’ conversation.”

Tommy knew he should shut up if he didn’t want to get hurt, but he couldn’t stop himself. He desperately wanted to know why and he just couldn’t let it go. That’s why he was asking/ranting to Dream about it. Dream always had the answers nowadays, so he went to him.

Ugh, his brain felt like mush. Two opposing sides fighting each other all the time just made him exhausted. One side said Dream was dangerous, while the other pointed out that Dream cared about him. If Dream didn’t care about him, then why would he have saved him? Twice!

And yes, maybe Dream had taken to hitting him recently when he got pissed off. It was light, really! Just a kick in the back of the legs if he wasn’t walking fast enough, a backhand to the face if he was getting too loud, fingers digging into his bony shoulder when he was being too unruly.

It was okay. Tommy deserved it. The traitorous part of him told him that he didn’t, that Dream was being unfair and treating him harshly, and that he should fight back. He had taken to trying to not let those thoughts show on his face, lest he wants to get hit more.

_ (He deserved it really; it's okay. _

_ After all, Schlatt used to hit people when they misbehaved. _

_ It was fine...right?) _

“Tommy, just drop it already,” Dream said in a warning tone. “I came. They didn’t. I’m your friend, they clearly aren’t. Just get on with it and stop moping about it.”

“I just don’t understand,” Tommy blurts out before he can stop himself. “I—”

Tommy immediately was immediately silenced by Dream turning and grabbing his wrist, yanking harshly until he stumbled forward, just barely stopping himself from running straight into the masked man.

“Since you can’t seem to do as your told,” Dream’s voice was pitched low in a dangerous tone, and Tommy tried to hide the shiver of fear that went up his spine at the sound of it. “Let’s go have your party, Tommy.”

“No no no, I’ll be good. Please don’t,” Tommy immediately responded, his voice higher than usual. “I’ll be good, I promise. Please no. No no no no no—”

He snapped his mouth shut when Dream’s fingers dug deeper into his wrist, and he felt the bones in his arm creak from just how hard it was being held. Bruises were already beginning to form beneath the masked man's hand and Tommy sincerely thought that if Dream squeezed any tighter, his bones were going to actually snap.

“Let’s go have your party, Tommy,” Dream repeated, releasing Tommy’s arm. The teen breathed a sigh of relief, cradling the affected arm close to his chest and ducking his head.

That relief was immediately replaced by fear as Dream grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head downwards, pulling them towards the beach.

Tommy yelped, feeling his still not 100% healed voice crack as his uninjured hand flew up to grip at Dream’s desperately. Tears sprung into his eyes and an animalistic whine tore itself from his throat, struggling weakly.

Dream was unaffected by his struggles as he dragged Tommy along, yanking harsher than necessary when Tommy tried to dig his heels into the ground to stop them. The whining grew louder, until Dream’s other hand backhanded him across the face, immediately silencing him.

Tommy had closed his eyes at some point, he wasn’t sure when, but they snapped open the moment his legs began to feel wet. Not a moment too soon as well, as just a second after his eyes opened, Dream let go and he dropped unceremoniously into the freezing ocean.

He landed on his back with a splash, immediately pushing his good hand underneath him in order to angle his body to keep his head above the water. It wasn’t that deep here, maybe just knee height, but still.

His efforts were in vain, however, when Dream stamped hard on his hand with his boots, making him fall back into the water with another splash.

Before he could get up this time, though, a boot was pressed against his chest, bearing down the full weight of Dream.

Tommy panicked, bubbles streaming from his lips as he tried to weakly push him off. His chest throbbed and his ribs groaned from the force, but Tommy was more concerned about the fact he couldn’t BREATHE. And the surface of the water was mere inches above his head!

_(He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't BREATHE-_

_-it feels exactly like how he wakes up every morning.)_

His legs kicked and jerked feebly, splashing and rocking the water as he strained with all his might to push the damn boot off, but he couldn’t do it. His lack of food recently (another punishment of Dream’s— a command from Dream— a request of Dream’s that he WANTED to follow not true not truenottrueNOTRUE) had led to him being weaker than usual as his body mass deteriorated to try and save itself.

But Dream still fed him! Small things whenever he came. He’d had a slice of cake earlier that day, in fact! It was the first thing Tommy had eaten since the day before yesterday.

_(He's so hungry but it's okay._

_Wilbur's trained him for this, after all._

_There had been little to no food during the wars.)_

Tommy struggled more as the lack of oxygen in his lungs started to make his chest and throat burn. His eyes were open underwater, though his vision was blurry and his eyes stung fiercely. Bubbles were coming from his mouth as he thrashed underwater, trying to free himself from how Dream had pinned him down.

His mind kept flashing between the time Dream had slit his throat, to the time that Dream burned him, both of the incidents having led to severe scarring. He both felt fear and relief that 1. Dream was doing this again, 2. Dream had mercy on him those times, so he might again, and 3. Dream hadn’t even used a weakness potion on him this time. His lack of being able to escape was purely his own fault.

Because he was useless. No wonder no one had come. He was pathetic and useless and couldn’t even save himself. He didn’t have an excuse, there was no potion clouding his thoughts and making it hard to move. His weakness was his own fault.

_(He's pathetic and he can't ever do anything except rely on others._

_After all, Eret taught him that._

_What did he do when Eret left? When Schlatt took over? When Wilbur fell?_

_He failed.)_

His vision was starting to blur further than it had already been, black spots dancing on the edges as he fought to be released. His head was growing foggy, and his limbs growing heavier and heavier the longer he went without any air.

Tommy’s head thrashed and he tried once more weak attempt to free himself, with no luck.

His eyelids fluttered as another small series of bubbles came from his lips, mouth opening and water rushing in as his body tried to inhale but was only met with salt. His body instinctively tried to reject it, but the water just came back over and over and over again. He was swallowing several mouthfuls, most likely.

Tommy’s head and limbs stilled, drifting weakly in the waves as salt stung his eyes and water filled his throat, and probably his lungs as well.

He blinked once, twice, three times, before his eyes shut and didn’t open, darkness rushing up to meet him.

* * *

Tommy came to coughing and hacking water out of his lungs.

His body jolted as someone’s hands turned him onto his side, spitting out water and sand and probably vomit as well, but he was too delirious to know whether the burning in the back of his throat was from bile or from the amount of saltwater he swallowed.

“There you go, there you are,” a nearby voice cooed, rubbing circles into his back comfortingly.

Tommy’s ribs hurt, a lot. What happened? The last thing he remembered was being pinned underwater by—

by...

Who had done that?

All he could recall was struggling to push someone’s foot off of his chest so that he could get up and breathe. He wasn’t sure who had been responsible for it.

_(The name dances in his memory but his mind pushes it away._

_Too scary, too dangerous, better to forget.)_

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright,” the same person as before said, pulling him up into a sitting position.

Tommy shivered from the cold air. He was soaking wet, clothes plastered to his skin, and his hair dripping saltwater into his eyes. He tried opening them anyway, finding them still stinging from seawater. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, as he looked up at the person who had saved him.

Dream was sitting next to him, holding him tightly by the shoulders so he didn’t fall over.

Dream had saved him? But why?

_(There's a thin line between enemies and friends._

_After all, Technoblade embedded that lesson into Tommy's mind._

_Every friend he's ever trusted will become his enemy and every enemy he makes will switch sides._

_Why is the world like this?)_

“You must be freezing,” Dream sounded sympathetic, and Tommy just nodded. Dream unzipped the hoodie he was wearing and pulled it off, revealing a thin black turtleneck undershirt and messy short blonde hair. The masked man pulled the bright green sweatshirt around Tommy’s shoulders, tugging the hood over Tommy’s head.

“Your hoodie,” Tommy protested weakly.

“I have more, it’s fine,” Dream reassured him. “You can keep this one.”

_(When was the last time that he had felt like this?_

_Warm?_

_Certainly not with Wilbur or Techno or Phil-)_

Tommy was still shaking and, at this point, even he didn’t know whether it was truly from the cold or from shock.

Dream seemed to notice this, leaning forward and pulling Tommy into a hug.

At first, the teen was rigid. Dream was his enemy, right? Why was he hugging him?

But Dream was also warm, and he had saved him.

Tommy clutched the hoodie he was wearing tighter around his shoulders and leaned into the embrace. His forehead rested on Dream’s shoulder and the masked man cradles the back of his head with one hand, the other rubbing circles into his back.

The teen closed his eyes as his rapid heart rate slowed back to a normal pace, trying to drown out the small portion of his brain that screamed at him to run.

“I got you, it’s okay,” Dream whispered soothingly. “I saved you. You’re alright.”

Dream saved him. He was alright.

He was safe.

_(Fool._

_Pathetic, weak, idiotic fool.)_

~~The mask hid Dream’s smirk. He was winning.~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo, R here! Back at it again with more angst. I do not apologize.
> 
> *******
> 
> Ello, Eci here! I wrote the internalized italicized dialogue for this one while R wrote the actual story cause my low IQ can't do that. UwU We hope you enjoyed this one!
> 
> On another topic, more serious this time, an author that I love and support, Jo (hhaeyeun) is struggling with a toxic environment is attempting to save money via commissions for when she can leave the environment. If you can check out [her commissions](https://twitter.com/hhaeyeun/status/1347281905423687687) and help, it'd be super pog! <3
> 
> Love you all~~
> 
> *******
> 
> R again. Eci, you are seriously downplaying your big brain ness. Y’all, this fic wouldn’t exist without them. They helped me through the brainstorming process SO MUCH. 
> 
> Also, definitely go help out Jo if you can!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tw// beating, physical child abuse, vomiting**

> **4.**

Tommy had been deathly avoidant of the water after the incident. He had tried to ask Dream if he knew who had tried to drown him, but the masked man had said that he’d found Tommy in the water, already passed out, so he had no idea.

Despite his efforts, he still woke up underwater every morning, making him freak out even after he had made it back to shore and dried off. It had gotten to the point that he stopped wearing the sweatshirt Dream had gifted him to bed in order to keep it dry.

Dream was never there in the mornings, but when he arrived, Tommy would immediately start following him around. He desperately craved for someone to comfort him because he was TERRIFIED, but he couldn’t just ask. Dream was going out of his way to visit Tommy, it’d be rude to ask for more of him.

That’s why Tommy was so hesitant to ask another question that had been plaguing him recently.

Dream was the most powerful person in the SMP. Sure, Techno could beat Dream in a fight, but Dream had summoned ELEVEN stacks of TNT from quite literally nowhere. Tommy wouldn’t be surprised if Dream was actually a god or something.

So... Dream could make anyone do anything... right?

Maybe... maybe he could bring people to visit him?

Was it asking too much? Tommy had no idea and he was unsure if he wanted to find out. What would the consequences be if it was? Would Dream hurt him again? Like the bleeding? And the burning? And the—

Wait.

Who had done those things to him? Surely not Dream, right? He couldn’t remember. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, a loose thread on the hem of his clothes, a hole in a piece of paper he was trying to write on.

No matter how hard he thought about it, he didn’t have a clue who had been the one to hurt him like that.

But Dream had been there after each instance. He could remember THAT.

It couldn’t have been Dream. Surely not. He was being ridiculous.

Tommy didn’t have time to think about such stupid, mundane things. Dream was going to arrive any minute, and he had a question to ask.

He had decided last night that he was going to ask Dream to bring someone tomorrow. He wasn’t sure who yet. Tubbo? Something told him Tubbo didn’t want to see him. Maybe Ranboo? Yeah, Ranboo was probably a good choice. Ranboo was nice. He’d ask for Ranboo.

Tommy glanced up. It was noon now. Dream was due to arrive soon. The masked man was very punctual.

As if on cue, Tommy heard the swirling of the nether portal nearby as it thrummed, signifying someone was about to appear from the other side.

Tommy stood up from where he was sitting in the grass in front of the nether portal, shifting back and forth restlessly as he waited for the magic to work and for Dream to come through.

His heart was racing, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to fully ask his question anyway, considering he’d swallowed a considerable amount of seawater this morning and his throat was extremely sore as a result.

The purple hue of the nether portal brightened for a moment, and then a familiar hooded shape stepped out.

“Dream,” Tommy grinned brightly, though his voice was as he thought, extremely hoarse. Much more than usual.

“Hey there Tommy,” Dream sounded like he was smiling back as he approached. “Let’s get the armor and tools over with real quick, yeah?”

“I don’t have any,” Tommy mumbled. “Didn’t go mining or anythin’ after you left yesterday. You can look if you want to, but I don’t have anything to put in the pit.”

Dream paused, tilting his head, and Tommy felt instinctual fear rush through him. He pushed it away with a shake of his head. This was Dream. Dream wouldn’t hurt him.

“Okay Tommy,” Dream said after what was probably several uncomfortable minutes of staring. “I believe you. What do you want to do today?”

“I uh... wanted to ask. Something. Of you,” Tommy croaked, rubbing at his sore throat through the bandages that were wrapped around it, hunching into the hoodie Dream had given him as he looked at his feet in shame. “I wasn’t sure if I should or not because you’ve already done so much for me and I don’t want to be rude—”

“Hey.”

Tommy startled and looked up as Dream put a hand on his shoulder. Though he couldn’t see the masked man’s face, the teen assumed that he was wearing a soft, reassuring smile based off of his tone and how light his hand was. Dream was digging his nails in or anything, just resting his hand there comfortingly.

“You can ask me for anything,” Dream reassured him. “We’re friends! Friends help each other out.”

Tommy brightened. “Friends? We’re really friends?”

“Of course we’re friends!”

Tommy grinned again, but it faltered after a moment. “You’re sure I can ask?”

“Of course you can,” Dream said soothingly. “Of course you can, Tommy. I might ask you for something later, though. You pat my back I pat yours, that’s how friends work.”

“That’s how friends work,” Tommy agreed.

“What did you want to ask me?”

“I was— I was uh, wondering,” despite Dream’s reassurances, Tommy still wasn’t sure if he could ask this. “I’m so happy you visit so much. No one else has, but you have, and you’re such a good friend like that. But— but— but I was wondering... you’re powerful right? The most powerful person in SMP. Can you— can you like... make someone come visit me? Like— like Ranboo! Ranboo likes me! I think he does, anyway. Could you bring... could you bring Ranboo tomorrow? I miss him.”

Dream was silent, unresponsive. It was making Tommy nervous. But Dream was his friend! Dream wouldn’t hurt him. He was being ridiculous. Dream must be just thinking! That’s it. Surely.

“...Dream...?” Tommy asked, hearing the nervousness in his own tone. “You don’t have to! Of course you don’t have to! I’m perfectly fine with just you visiting. I”m so sorry for asking, I’m sorry.”

Dream was silent for another few moments, only making Tommy more and more nervous about what the masked man was going to do.

Then the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip.

Tommy shuddered as Dream dug his fingers in, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Tommy’s voice had gone higher, taking a pleading tone. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please—”

Tommy was silenced as Dream backhanded him across the face, making his cheek and lip throb.

One of his own hands came up to where Dream had hit him, brushing against his stinging cheek and throbbing lip. He could taste blood, and feeling a split in his lip left by Dream’s nails.

Dream had hit him before, when he misbehaved. He was used to it. Wilbur used to hit him too, back in Pogtopia when he went insane. But why did this feel different?

Something hit his knee, and Tommy crumpled to the ground with a pained cry as the joint sent spikes of agony up his leg. He laid on his back for a moment, clutching his knee, but then pain flared in his mouth as something hard slammed into it, making his head jerk from the force of it. He could definitely taste blood now, and his jaw hurt like hell.

Tommy raised his arms to protect his head, trembling like a leaf because he couldn’t DO anything. It hurt so bad. This wasn’t even the worst pain he felt (that title definitely went to the burning incident), but this was worse somehow, because he couldn’t fight back.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.

This was DREAM. Dream was his friend, probably his only friend at this point. Tommy had done a bad thing, and Dream was punishing him for it. He deserved this.

The rubber sole of Dream’s boot slammed into his stomach, making him choke and lower his arms to clutch at his midsection. Then he felt it again, this time striking his already injured knee and making him screech, tears he hadn’t known were forming suddenly spilling down his face.

He was silenced by another kick to his head, this time on his temple and making his whole body roll over from the force of it. He was on his side now, gasping.

Dream’s hands grabbed him and hauled him up by his shirt, lifting him with ease and throwing him in a different direction.

Tommy hit the ground with a jolt that made his whole body sing with pain, but it was quickly overridden by a sharp agony that exploded in his head as it hit something cold, smooth, and unforgiving with a sickening crack.

He lay there, disoriented, for a moment. His vision had gone blurry and his ears were ringing. Everything had gotten way brighter than normal, especially the purple hue of the nether portal that he was now much closer to, and the light stabbed at his eyes painfully.

Hands grabbed at him and he was being lifted by the collar of his shirt. The movement made his stomach turn dangerously, and he groaned.

Tommy was dropped abruptly, and the sudden change made bile rise in his throat, and he turned onto his side, feeling what little was in his stomach spew out of his mouth, burning his throat.

Something rough scraped across his mouth, as if someone was wiping his mouth for him. But just half a second later, something that felt suspiciously like a the sole of a boot slam into his ribs.

Tommy choked, feeling something in his ribs give as another hit struck him there. He curled in on himself, clutching his stomach as he tried to protect his torso.

All he could do at this point was count the places where he was being hit, and even that was difficult with his foggy brain.

Back. Shoulder. Knee. Head. Shoulder. Knee. Back. Back again. Head.

It got to the point he could only let his body react to the pain how it wanted to, jerking with every hit. But his mouth refused to release any sounds, despite his head and knee hurting the worst, and whoever was attacking him was seeming to pay special attention to those areas.

He wasn’t sure how long it went on. He wasn’t sure who was doing this to him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it. He wasn’t sure of anything.

His brain wasn’t working properly.

Tommy had no idea when it stopped. One second he was being hit over and over again, the next second he was numb all over, and someone was pulling him into a sitting position.

“—ommy? Tommy can you hear me?” A voice cut through the ringing in his ears. They sounded familiar. They sounded worried. Who was there?

His eyes weren’t helping him. All he could see was a blur of green and red and black and purple and white. It was confusing and Tommy felt like he was going to throw up again.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he slurred to whoever was there. They quickly repositioned him, and Tommy retched, only for nothing but to come out. His stomach was completely empty.

Whoever was there held his hair back and out of his face, running a hand up and down his back comfortingly. Tommy trembled as he was moved once more, pulling him into someone’s chest.

“Tommy, are you alright?” The person asked. Tommy still couldn’t recall who it was, but something in the back of his mind said he should be afraid, but a larger portion of his brain was telling him that he was safe. “It’s Dream. I think you have a concussion. You hit your head pretty hard on the obsidian. The regen I gave you should be clearing things up for you soon.”

Tommy hummed a response, burying his head into the fabric of Dream’s hoodie. It was soft, and bright green.

Dream, yes. He knew Dream. Dream was his friend. Dream.

“It was for your own good, you know,” Dream whispered soothingly, wrapping his arms around Tommy. The teen leaned further into the embrace, shivering. Dream was so WARM. “You know that right? I would never hurt you. They don’t care about you. You only need me.”

“I only need you,” Tommy agreed, his brain feeling too much like mush to argue.

“This was for your own good.”

“It was for my own good.”

Tommy closed his eyes, hands finding the front of Dream’s sweatshirt and clutching the fabric between his fingers. The regen was working. His head was getting clearer, he could actually bend his knee now (though not without some pain), and though his ribs creaked when he moved, they no longer hurt.

He still couldn’t remember a few things. Like who had been hurting him, what he’d done to deserve it, and...

and...

Who, or rather, what had he been asking for?

* * *

“Tommy’s asked for no visitors.”

Ranboo blinked, surprised as he stared at the masked man in front of him, blocking the path to Tommy’s nether portal.

“Are you sure?” The enderman hybrid asked, worry bleeding into his tone. “That doesn’t sound like him... I know I haven’t really known him for long, but still.”

Dream shrugged. “He even told me to leave. Just asked me to keep people away. Said he wants to be left alone.”

“Ah... okay...” Ranboo couldn’t really disagree with the guy. He had no idea what Tommy was up to these days. It had been weeks since anyone had seen him.

Plus, Dream was one of the most powerful people in SMP, Ranboo wasn’t about to pick a fight with him.

The enderman hybrid did feel guilty as he walked back to the main portal. He was pretty sure not a single person had been by Logstedshire to visit Tommy recently, including himself.

Tommy had a reason to not want to see them. Ranboo really was an awful friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more and then the plus one. Any theories in the comments? -R


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tw// blood, mention of death, suicidal thoughts**

> **5.**

Tommy couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. Not again.

He was tired. He was so so so very tired. He didn’t want to wake up alone and drowning anymore. He didn’t want to sit out on the beach for hours, just waiting for Dream to come so he wouldn’t be alone anymore. He didn’t want to watch Dream leave again shortly after nightfall.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Dream was leaving. Dream was leaving him. Dream was leaving him AGAIN.

He did it every night, so Tommy should be used to it, right? Well he wasn’t. He wasn’t. It felt like someone was ripping away all the happiness in the world every time that Dream left, because Dream was all he had. Dream was all he knew.

Had he ever had anyone else in the first place?

Tommy could remember... some things. He remembered he had a dad, and a few brothers (the number always varied. Did he have two? Three? Four?). He remembered bees, and guitars, and a flag that kept changing its design. He remembered anger, and blood, and betrayal and guilt and pain and loss and fear, all so sharp they blinded him.

But he remembered with startling clarity a woman.

He wasn’t sure who this woman was to him, but she didn’t have any bad things associated with her. Perhaps that’s why he remembered her so well. She smelled like things baking in an oven. She gave warm hugs and she was kind. She also defended him, protected him.

Tommy didn’t know if she was his mother (too young to be his mother), his sister (that seemed to be it, but if she was, she wasn’t blood-related), or just a friend (he didn’t think so).

He didn’t ask Dream about her, because he was half convinced that this woman was just a hallucination. Plus, if she was important to him, Dream would’ve mentioned her, right?

He was getting off track. He did that a lot these days. He couldn’t seem to focus as easily anymore after he’d hit the nether portal a few weeks ago. In fact, his memory started acting up around then too. What—

Stupid brain. He was doing it again.

Dream was leaving, and he couldn’t keep his mind set on straight.

Dream couldn’t leave. He couldn’t.

“You know what time it is, Tommy,” the masked man said, pausing a good twenty feet from the nether portal. Tommy deftly avoided looking at the still red-stained grass by the base of one side and kept his eyes focused on his friend instead. “It’s time for me to go.”

Embarrassingly, tears were welling up in his eyes. He just... he didn’t think he could handle waking up in the ocean again and just being alone until noon. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Please don’t leave,” he mumbled, shifting his weight onto his good leg. His knee had been bothering him a lot lately, and he was always limping. That seemed to also have started happening right after the nether portal thing, along with his memory. He couldn’t remember why.

“I have to,” Dream said gently, reaching forward and pushing a hand into Tommy’s hair and running his nails lightly along his scalp. He leaned into it, grateful for the touch, even if it was small.

“Please,” Tommy whimpered. “I— I can’t...”

“I have to,” Dream repeated, hand suddenly withdrawing and his voice losing it’s comforting tone for a more monotonous one. “I have things to do, Tommy. It’s selfish of you to ask me to stay. I’m very busy. Be grateful I come as much as I do.”

“Of— of course,” Tommy stammered, stiffening and standing up straight again. “I— I’m so glad you come to visit every day. I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t. But... maybe you could stay, just this once?”

“No, Tommy,” Dream grew more stern, anger bleeding into his tone. Tommy flinched. “I have to leave.”

The masked man turned his back towards the teen, walking briskly towards the nether portal.

Tommy didn’t know what to do. He was frozen.

But desperation flooded through him all at once. He couldn’t be alone. He COULD NOT be alone. DREAM COULDN’T LEAVE HIM. PLEASE. NO.

Before he knew it, he practically lunged for Dream’s retreating back and latched onto the masked man’s arm, fingers digging into his arm so tightly that he was probably causing some pain, or at least discomfort. It worked, managing to stop Dream in his tracks and slowly turn his head in Tommy’s direction.

“You can’t,” Tommy whispered desperately, voice cracking as fear laced through him just from the way Dream was looking at him. “Please.”

“Tommy,” Dream sounded so... so... disappointed. Tommy felt something in him crumble as Dream turned around fully. The teen refused to let go of Dream’s arm, but he ducked his head, shame and fear and guilt flooding through him all at once.

“You can’t,” Tommy’s voice was barely audible, and his lip was trembling like a little kid’s but he just couldn’t help it. “Please. Please. I can’t— I can’t—”

“I’ve told you not to touch me unless I tell you to, Tommy,” Dream sounded so disappointed in him, and with every word a little more shame bled into the teen. “Let go of me. Right now.”

Tommy immediately released him, shuddering as he lost contact. He tried to shift his balance, to stand on his bad leg for a moment to give his good one some rest, but stopped trying the moment that pain laced up from his knee.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked.

“Sorry’s not good enough, Tommy.”

“Please.”

“I’m going to leave now,” Dream ignored Tommy’s pleading for him to stay, just continuing to talk over him as if he wasn’t saying a single word. “I’ll be back in a few days. Think of this as punishment for what you did.”

“No no no no no,” Tommy’s voice went higher pitched. “Please. No please. Please. Anything— I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me alone. I’ll do anything, I’ll do anything.”

Dream paused, tilting his head in a way that sent another spike of fear through the teen. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Tommy repeated, desperation evident in his voice and on his face. “I’ll do anything. Please. Just— just don’t leave me here. I can’t— I can’t—”

“Can’t what, Tommy?” Dream asked, slipping into a more comforting tone that instantly made the teen shiver.

“I can’t... can’t be alone,” Tommy insisted. “Please.”

Dream sighed, reaching up and cupping Tommy’s cheek with one hand. The teen leaned into the touch, trembling.

“I shouldn’t reward bad behavior,” Dream hummed. “However... I’ll stay. I won’t leave tonight, Tommy, but this can’t go unpunished.”

Tommy shivered, but nodded. Punishment. What would that entail? He had a vague feeling of being punished by Dream before, but he didn’t remember why or how.

“But I want you to choose,” the masked man continued, and suddenly the hand on his face was no longer comforting and gentle. Dream grabbed his chin roughly and forced the teen to look at him, fingers digging into Tommy’s skin as if he was afraid he would leave.

But Tommy wasn’t going to leave. Even if he wanted to, he doubted he could. He didn’t even remember the last time he ate, which meant it was probably several days ago. He didn’t have the energy to fight. But he wouldn’t fight in the first place. Dream was his friend!

“Choose?” Tommy rasped, eyes furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, Tommy,” there was a smile audible in Dream’s voice as he spoke. “I want you to choose. Do you want me to beat you, bleed you, burn you, or choke you?”

Then it all made sense.

The burning incident, the scar on his throat, why he remembered drowning so vividly, why he remembered someone hitting him over and over again. They were punishments. Each time he must have done something bad, something he didn’t remember very clearly, and so Dream had to punish him.

“I...” Tommy trailed off, he very much didn’t want any of those options. He didn’t want to be punished. But he’d done something wrong, something he knew he wasn’t supposed to do. He had to choose.

“Choose, Tommy, you’re the one who has to decide,” Dream said soothingly.

Burning was ruled out immediately. That had hurt the worst out of each of his punishments, he remembered. Tommy wasn’t sure if he could handle being choked, not when he already woke up drowning each morning. Being beaten just sounded painful and long.

“Bleeding,” Tommy mumbled. “I’ll... the bleeding, please.”

“Was that so hard?” Dream asked, releasing Tommy’s chin and pulling the teen into a hug. Tommy instantly melted into it, resting his head on Dream’s shoulder. He was tense still, unsure of what was about to happen. He just knew it was going to hurt, a lot, but he deserved it.

He registered a faint scraping sound, similar to that of a sword being drawn, right before his whole body jerked.

Something had been thrust into his abdomen, and was poking out his back.

Tommy trembled, leaning more against Dream as his legs nearly gave out underneath him. He didn’t feel any pain, not yet, but he knew he would before long.

Whatever had impaled him, most likely Dream’s sword, was suddenly ripped out of his body. The masked man stepped back, and Tommy crumpled to the ground, gasping.

He lay there, in the grass, staring up at the setting sun with hands clasped around his stomach. He still couldn’t feel the pain. All he could do was sink his fingers into the gap in his midsection as a warm, rust colored liquid seeped onto his hands, over his shirt, and onto the ground beneath him.

Tommy couldn’t feel anything. It was like he was numb to the world as blood slowly seeped out of the wound in his torso. It was just so cold. The blood staining his hands was warm, but everything else was cold.

The sun was setting, disappearing from the horizon faster than he could comprehend in his dazed state. The stars were showing up in the sky, their light reflecting in the puddle of blood staining the grass around him.

Tommy wondered, emotionlessly, if he was going to die.

Dream had saved him before. Several times. He would save him again.

Right?

But as time went on, and it grew harder to breathe, harder to blink, harder to think, he couldn’t help but consider distantly that Dream was going to let him die like this.

It’d be kind of poetic, if he died here, having chosen his own death yet it was carried out by Dream’s hands. But then again, isn’t this what he wanted in the first place? To die? Who cared if it was by Dream’s hands or his own?

Tommy let his eyes fall shut and he broke away from reality, distancing himself from the numbness in favor of everything just going still. He could see a dark wave beckoning him, promising happiness and freedom from reality.

He welcomed it, letting the wave grow closer and closer and—

The smell of sour candy broke the wave, and the pain that Tommy should have been feeling this whole time hit him.

The teen let out a quiet sob, both disappointed and relieved that the wave was leaving. Disappointed, because it didn’t take him with it, and relieved that Dream had saved him once more.

The pain, though agonizing, faded as quickly as it came, leaving Tommy with a sore midsection but not much else.

He let his eyes open as Dream pulled him into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“That wasn’t too bad, right?” Dream cooed, stroking Tommy’s hair with one hand while the other rubbed circles into the teen’s back. “That didn’t take long at all. It’s over. And I’ll stay with you tonight. You got what you wanted, and for such a small price.”

Tommy sat for a moment, blinking blankly at the ocean that he could see over Dream’s shoulder as the masked man continued to whisper comforts in his ear.

“I care about you Tommy. It was for your own good,” Dream reassured him, pulling Tommy tighter against him. “I’m the only one who cares about you.”

Something finally broke inside the teen, but he wasn’t sure what. He just felt something snap, and the numbness returned, stronger than before.

“You’re the only one who cares about me,” Tommy said dully, not recognizing the monotone of his voice.

His arms came up and wrapped around Dream, clutching at the back of the masked man’s sweatshirt as the teen rested his head against Dream’s shoulder.

He could feel Dream stiffen, he could hear him go silent, but he didn’t let go.

“You’re the only one who care about me,” Tommy repeated, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxed into Dream’s hold.

He couldn’t find warmth in that hold as he used to. He couldn’t feel comfort.

Everything just felt numb.

Tommy decided he preferred the numbness over the warmth.

Because warmth always led to pain.

* * *

Dream had to practically carry the young teen back into his tent. He was unresponsive, other than a few disjointed, inaudible words that he kept repeating over and over again. The masked man had no idea what Tommy was saying, or trying to say.

One things for sure, he’d definitely snapped.

Dream was surprised, really. He thought it’d take more to break him, to wrangle the great TommyInnit into his control. It was pathetic how easily the teen had crumbled. For someone so young being so bold and a constant thorn in Dream’s side, Tommy had fallen under his thumb in just a few short weeks of isolation.

Dream laid Tommy down on his bed, but the teen seemed reluctant to let go. However, he had bigger plans to get to. Dream could not just wait until the boy released him, he had more important things to take care of, more pressing matters to attend to.

With just a hand digging into Tommy’s shoulder, Dream was freed, the teen shivering and curling into a ball on his bed.

Dream let go of Tommy’s shoulder with a sigh, instead grabbing at the boy’s face and forcing him to look at him.

That’s when he saw it.

The fact that Tommy’s eyes had been slowly losing their color was not a surprise to Dream. They’d been turning gray ever since Tubbo announced his exile. But now...

Tommy’s eyes were green.

Or at least, a mimic of green. A blend of gray, the very little blue that had been left, and green. It looked similar to the sea foam on the beach nearby.

An unexpected side effect, but it did mean one thing.

Tommy was completely and utterly under Dream’s control.

* * *

“Punz.”

The blonde man in question startled, looking up and meeting the familiar face of a smiling mask, staring down at him from just a few meters away. Fuck, he hated when Dream snuck up on him like that.

“What can I do you for, Dream?” Punz asked, raising an eyebrow at the masked man.

“You know of the prison I commissioned Sam to build,” Dream said, phrasing it as a question when it clearly wasn’t.

“Who doesn’t?” Punz snorted. “The thing’s massive. You’d have to be either stupid or blind to miss it.”

“How much would I have to pay you to keep track of a prisoner for me?”

Punz’s other eyebrow went up as well. “Depends on who it is.”

“Oh, no one difficult, at least not anymore,” the smile Dream was surely wearing was audible. “Tommy won’t give you any trouble. And if he does, I’ll put a stop to it quite quickly.”

“Tommy?” Punz asked skeptically. “Aren’t there more dangerous people to you to lock up in an inescapable prison? Like Technoblade? Or Philza?”

Dream tilted his head, a mimic of what an animal would do when thinking about something. “Walk with me,” the masked man offered, though it was clear that it was not a suggestion.

Punz, reluctantly, followed Dream as he walked seemingly aimlessly around.

“Let me ask you a question, Punz,” Dream hummed, throwing an arm over the blonde’s shoulder, making him tense. “You like your valuables, don’t you? That’s why you’ll do just about anything for netherite, or diamonds, or pearls.”

“I’d say so,” Punz said wryly, unsure of where the masked man was going with this.

“If you had an impenetrable vault, that only you could get in or out of, would you keep your valuable items there, or just laying around?”

“I’d probably just keep them in my ender chest.”

“For arguments sake, let’s say you couldn’t fit them in your ender chest. Or that you didn’t have an ender chest. Would you put them in the vault, or just lying about for anyone to steal from you?”

“I’d put it in the vault,” Punz said slowly, tensing further.

“Precisely!” Dream shouted in enthusiasm, before his voice mellowed out once more as he continued. “You see Punz, Tommy is very, very valuable to me. I can’t have anyone stealing him from me. That’s why he’s going in the prison. Because it isn’t a prison, it’s a vault. You keep precious things in a vault.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. How about... half a stack of diamonds a month, or sixteen netherite bars a month. I want to be paid every two weeks.”

“That sounds like a deal,” Dream held out a hand, still keeping his arm firm around Punz’s shoulders.

Punz reach forward and shook the masked man’s hand, staring at the smiling mask with a neutral expression. They maintained eye contact for several long, uncomfortable seconds, before Punz very obviously glanced between the arm around his shoulders and Dream’s mask.

Dream took the hint, releasing the blonde.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Dream,” Punz clapped a hand on Dream’s shoulder with a grin. “When do you expect me to be there?”

“I’ll let you know when you’re needed,” Dream brushed Punz’s hand off of him. “Keep an eye out.”

With that, the masked man left, throwing an ender pearl a good distance away and disappearing in a shower of bright purple sparks. Punz’s eyes remained trained on him until he disappeared, and then lingered in the direction of the pearl that had been thrown for a good few seconds before allowing himself to relax.

His eyes narrowed as his feet turned in the direction of New L’manburg.

“Yeah, _hell_ no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shamelessly self-promoting Eci’s new fic: “Oneirataxia” (if i knew how to put the link in here it’d be over for you bitches /j). I’m helping her with ideas and such, but they’re the one writing and the fic is brilliant. Y’all will really like that one. Go read it. -R


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **tw// drowning, mental conditioning, implied/referenced child abuse, amnesia**

> **+1**

Tommy was drowning.

No matter how hard he frantically tried to swim to the surface, his limbs weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t struggle upwards. Bubbles streamed out of his mouth as he screamed into empty water.

He couldn’t breathe.

There was something clasped around his ankle. A hand, digging cruel fingers into his flesh. When he had glanced down earlier, he had only seen familiar faces, faces he couldn’t quite recognize or place names to.

Despite the water, he could hear their voices clearly. They all sounded like Dream, but they didn’t look like Dream.

“I saved you Tommy.”

“This is for your own good.”

“Maybe next time I won’t be as merciful.”

“You want to jump into that lava, Tommy?”

“Let’s go have your party, Tommy.”

“I saved you. You’re alright.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“Choose, Tommy, you’re the one who has to decide.”

They were so loud. They weren’t supposed to be that loud. Tommy just wanted to breathe. He just wanted to live. Let go, PLEASE.

“TOMMY!”

That wasn’t right. Tommy furrowed his brow in confusion, momentarily distracted from his goal of reaching the surface. That didn’t sound like Dream. Whoever it was sounded familiar too. Who was that?

“Tommy!”

“—e’s not breathing—”

There wasn’t anyone around him, and the crowd of faces beneath him had fallen silent.

“WAKE UP!”

Tommy gasped, eyes snapping open with a jolt. He bolted into a sitting position, inhaling greedily the oxygen he’d been deprived of.

It took him a moment to realize he was on his cot, in his tent, not underwater like he usually was when he woke up. It took him another few seconds to realize that the hands stroking his back and the voices mumbling encouragements were decidedly NOT Dream.

Tommy jerked away, eyes widening with fear and confusion as he registered the two strange men in his tent.

They were both familiar, but he couldn’t recall their names, or their roles in his life. He could only remember fear and pain and betrayal and anger when looking at them.

One was young, looking to be around his age. He had short, messy brown hair and wide blue eyes. He was wearing a suit, and looked the most panicked of the two.

The other was older, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a royal outfit, built for cold weather. He had a cloak pulled around two dark gray, feathery wings.

The both of them radiated familial bonds, something that made him feel safe, but the sting of betrayal and fear was too much for him to ignore, even if he didn’t know why.

Tommy startled backwards at the sight of the two sort-of-strangers, hard enough that he fell backwards, through the “wall” of his tent. The momentum of his fall made the rest of the shoddily made tent collapse, and he could hear the alarmed shouts of the two as the three of them got tangled into the wool canopy.

He wasn’t focused on that. He was focused on freeing himself. Unfortunately, the ratty, thinning wool just seemed content to continue to ensnare him no matter how hard he thrashed.

He finally managed to kick himself free, scrambling to his feet. Tommy nearly fell over again from the stabbing pain that laced its way up his leg from his knee, but he couldn’t let pain stop him. He had to move.

But when he managed to get his eyes to focus, he realized that he had a much bigger problem.

For one, Dream was nowhere in sight, despite the promise he made to stay.

But a more important factor, there were a lot more than two strange-familiar people who were in Logstedshire with him.

In fact, there was at least a dozen, or more.

Tommy froze, blinking rapidly as he realized that he was almost completely surrounded by strangers. People he didn’t know and that were clearly looking at him as if they’d seen a ghost, so they presumably knew HIM.

But how did they know him? He didn’t know them— at least, he didn’t think he did. He kept getting... flashes. But Dream had been telling him to ignore the flashes in these past few days since his memory started going bad, so they weren’t important.

He couldn’t focus on that. He didn’t have the time. He needed to run.

Tommy shook himself, blinking rapidly as he hesitated for another moment.

Before he bolted.

There were more shouts of alarm. He could hear people calling his name, yelling at him to stop. They were chasing him.

He didn’t stop, he couldn’t. He had to find Dream.

“Tommy STOP!” A particular voice ordered, and Tommy’s eyes widened.

His feet slammed to a stop, sending him toppling forward and making him hit the ground. He got up just a second later, leaning heavily on his good leg, but not making a move to start fleeing again.

Tommy’s chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath. He’d been running for only a few seconds, but his malnourished body was already exhausted. When was the last time he ate? Probably several days ago. He didn’t feel hungry, though.

He had a feeling he should be worrying about that. He wasn’t.

There were people surrounding him again, much closer than before. They were afraid he’d run again, surely. There wasn’t an escape, this time. At least last time there were gaps. Now the strangers were practically pressed shoulder to shoulder, leaving no room for him to run.

His breathing quickened, and pain built up in his head as he glanced at faces he recognized, but couldn’t name.

His eyes shifted to the ground, ducking his head. There were too many people and he didn’t UNDERSTAND how he knew them yet didn’t know them at the same time.

They were asking him questions. They were talking all over each other and it was TOO MUCH.

“Everyone shut up!” Someone called, not the first voice he’d heard, but someone different. Tommy didn’t look up to see who it was, but whoever it was managed to quiet the people surrounding him.

He was hunching into the sweatshirt Dream gave him, hands clutching the fabric tightly and keeping his eyes on the ground, trembling.

“Why the hell were you running?” Demanded the same voice as the first time.

Tommy visibly flinched, rocking back and forth unsteadily on his heel. Even though he knew this wasn’t Dream (this person’s voice was deeper, and it belonged to a familiar pink haired man dressed in blue-themed royal attire), he couldn’t help but obey and answer truthfully, like he was supposed to, unless he wanted to be punished.

“I— there isn’t supposed to be anyone else here,” Tommy rasped, finding his throat sore and unforgivingly raw. “D-Dream gets upset when— Dream getting upset always— I don’t wanna be punished.”

“Dream’s not here,” said someone else, but Tommy didn’t look up to see who.

Dream wasn’t here. Dream wasn’t here. DREAM WASN’T HERE.

Tommy started hyperventilating faster. DREAM WASN’T HERE. HE PROMISED. HE SAID HE’D STAY. WHERE WAS HE.

Hands were on him. Someone was touching him. Someone other than Dream.

Tommy screamed, high pitched and hoarse, thrashing violently out of whoever’s grip it was. It didn’t do anything. More hands kept coming and the faces were blurring together and he could only keep fighting.

He had no idea who these people were or why they were touching him, he was just filled with the urgency to get away because it wasn’t SAFE.

He had to find Dream. He had to find Dream hehadtofindDream—

The unfamiliar people were shouting at him, pleading him with him to stop, to calm down, as they tried to restrain him. But Tommy REFUSED to be restrained. He had to find Dream. Dream would protect him—

“Fuckin’— calm down!” The first voice shouted, and Tommy immediately stilled out of instinct. A shiver ran through him and he squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t Dream’s voice, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from obeying.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” someone else said. “It’s okay. You’re okay Tommy, I promise. Dream can’t hurt you anymore.”

Tommy froze up at the sound of Dream’s name, pulling weakly at the people holding him. “Where is he?” He rasped.

“He’s gone,” this person’s voice was the most familiar. Soft, reassuring, but also full of tears. Echoes of words once said by this person kept repeating in his ears. Some were good, some were bad. The good far outweighed the bad, but the bad seemed to be more recent.

“You— you’re lying,” Tommy choked out. “He said he wouldn’t leave. He promised. He promised me he wouldn’t leave me. That’s why I was punished yesterday, so he could stay. You’re lying. WHERE IS HE?!”

“Tommy calm down, it’s okay,” the same comforting voice told him, sounding slightly panicked.

“No!” He screeched, eyes snapping open and kicking at the brown haired, blue eyed boy in front of him. The boy stumbled back with a cough as one of Tommy’s feet managed to catch him in the chin.

More hands appeared as he struggled, grabbing his arms and yanking them behind him in order to restrain him. Someone with brown hair who wore a yellow sweater plopped themselves down on top of his legs with a smug, blue stained grin.

Despite the familiarity of the yellow man sitting on top of him with that smile, Tommy didn’t stop squirming, whining high in his throat and yanking against the people who restrained him.

“Let me go!” He pleaded. “Let me go! I have to find him! I have—”

“Tommy, stop,” the same pink haired man from before said sternly, in a low, commanding tone.

Tommy stilled, freezing in place as he made eye contact with the man who wasn’t Dream, but he might as well be. His instincts told him to listen, obey, don’t get hurt, so that’s what he did.

He didn’t understand why these people were here, why they were touching him, why they insisted he was safe and pleaded with him to stop fighting them.

He couldn’t understand why there was discomfort on the pink haired man’s face, as if he only just realized Tommy was obeying HIM, but not anyone else.

“Are you going to keep fighting?” Pink asked, his tone halfway between concerned and stern, as if he couldn’t decide which to use. The contrast between the two made Tommy’s head hurt.

“I—” Tommy swallowed, wishing he could bang his head on something to get it to work properly again. “I need to find Dream.”

“Dream is the last person you need right now,” spat someone from behind him. It was probably the one restraining him.

Tommy shivered at the tone of voice, ducking his head.

“Phil, shut up for a minute,” Pink retorted, making Tommy flinch, though his anger wasn’t directed towards him. “If we take you to see Dream, will you calm down and come home with us without fighting?”

“Home?” Tommy echoed croakily. “That’s here, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about, Tommy?” The man sitting on top of him, Yellow, asked, tilting his head in a confused, innocent manner. “Logstedshire isn’t your home, L’manburg is!”

L’manburg. That name sounded familiar, but thinking too hard on it just made Tommy’s head hurt worse. A flag danced in the back of his mind, it’s pattern and colors repeatedly changing as he spoke his next words. “L’manburg? What’s that?”

* * *

The people following him had gone practically silent since he’d asked that question. A kind, tall guy with a creeper mask who he knew nothing about offered to show him where Dream was, and Tommy jumped at the opportunity. Everyone else just kind of... followed him, silently.

They were upset, Tommy could tell. The brown haired boy (who he had dubbed “Bee” for reasons he could not recall) looked like he was on the verge of tears. Yellow seemed worried. Pink seemed furious (he was staying far away from Pink), as well as the same blonde man who’d been in his tent (who he named Wings for now).

Those four had the strongest flashes associated with them. They all felt like family, but they felt more like danger, like betrayal.

He stuck by an enderman boy who was very tall. His flashes always seemed to be good (though there was an undertone of fire and fear in one or two of them).

There had been a bit of a freak out when Tommy absolutely refused to go to the nether. They weren’t understanding that he couldn’t go, he didn’t want to be burned again. He promised Dream he wouldn’t go into the nether.

It got to the point that Wings and Ender (what he was calling enderman boy) offered to go the long way with him, because Tommy refused to go through the nether. Bee immediately jumped in on this idea.

That’s how Tommy found himself in the back of a boat, sitting behind Ender as they rowed. Wings was rowing the other boat, with Bee in the back.

It took a long time, but eventually they made it to shore again. This beach was familiar, but Tommy couldn’t fathom why.

Tommy was led past buildings that made his head hurt, along a path that he could faintly remember constructing himself. But why? He didn’t know.

He could only stare in awe and fear at the massive dark building that loomed ahead. He was being led straight to it, and he could see Pink, Yellow, a fox hybrid, a man in a beanie with golden wings, a man with a white headband, and the creeper hybrid from before.

As well as a woman.

He knew this woman.

Other than the bright pink hair, she looked exactly like the woman he’d been hallucinating. The one that felt like a sister.

Her eyes widened as she saw him, but he didn’t dare tear his eyes away in fear that she’d disappear like she always did.

“Punz is watching him right now,” the creeper hybrid explained to Wings, Bee, and Ender. “We made sure that Dream doesn’t know he’s coming.”

“Dream’s in there?” Tommy rasped, eyes brightening as hope filled his chest.

No one responded, but he was led inside anyhow.

The building was just as dark inside as it was outside, a maze of hallways and doors that the creeper hybrid had to stop them so he could open them some fancy way.

They were walking for several long minutes, constantly pausing for the creeper hybrid to open a door or disable something in the middle of a hallway that looked completely normal.

But finally, finally they got to Dream.

He was being held in a large cage, completely made from metal bars that looked thicker and sturdier than iron. It was open from all sides, leaving nowhere for Dream to hide.

The masked man had been stripped of his mask, revealing poisonous green eyes and a freckled face. His sweatshirt had been removed, leaving him in a black turtleneck undershirt and pants. He was also unarmed, thick metal chains around each wrist and bolted to the floor with similar restraints on his ankles.

But Tommy wasn’t paying attention to that. He didn’t care about that.

“Dream!” Tommy cried out in relief, throwing himself forward and up against the bars, sticking his hands through the gaps in the metal to reach him. “Dream!”

“Tommy,” Dream similarly came forward, but without as much intensity as Tommy had. He stopped just out of the boy’s reach.

Tommy got the hint and withdrew his hands, ducking his head.

This seemed to be what Dream wanted, as the freckled man scooted forward the rest of the way and stared at him intensely.

“Tommy, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Dream murmured. “You need to let me out, that way I can take you home, alright? I’ll take you home and I won’t ever, ever leave you.”

“I don’t know how,” Tommy whined. “I don’t know how.”

“Figure it out!” Dream snapped, making Tommy flinch. “You need to let me out so we can go home. You want to go home, don’t you?”

Tommy nodded, frantically.

“Tommy, he’s lying to you,” Bee insisted from behind him. “Logstedshire isn’t your home. L’manburg is.”

“I don’t know what “L’manburg” is,” Tommy shuffled nervously as conflicting thoughts rose in his brain.

Go with Bee. You know Bee. Bee is safe. Bee’s name isn’t Bee. You know Bee’s name. Dream only ever hurt you. Bee is right. Go with Bee.

Dream cares about you. They locked him up. Dream saved you, now you have to save him. Free Dream. Go with Dream.

“You do!” Bee cried, and Tommy turned to see tears rolling down the boy’s cheeks. “You helped build L’manburg! Just come home with us!”

“I don’t even know you!” Tommy clamped his hands over his ears, wishing that he was anywhere else but here. He wished he could’ve woken up underwater, and swam to shore and find Dream waiting there for him. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this.

Hands peeled his arms away, forcing him to let go. Dream was pulling him further against the bars, having reached through to grab at him. Tommy reflexively leaned into it, even though Dream’s grip was harsh and unyielding, not comforting.

“Dream, let him go,” Pink said coldly, and Tommy glanced back to see a crossbow aimed at the both of them. Tommy was blocking Dream, for the most part, but Pink could easily walk around the cage and fire through the bars to hit Dream from another angle.

“Don’t,” Tommy choked out.

“That’s right, you don’t know them, do you?” Dream purred, making Tommy stiffen. “I really did a number on you, huh? You hitting the nether portal was an accident, but once I saw you were bleeding, I figured I could make light of the situation. I hit you so hard you forgot everything. You’re mine now, don’t you see?”

“You... you what?” Tommy looked towards Dream with wide, confused eyes. “It was a punishment. I deserved it...”

“You did,” Dream agreed, something smug in his tone.

“Alright, bastard,” Pink had moved to another side of the cage before Tommy realized it, and there was a twang as his crossbow was released.

Dream groaned slightly, and arrow now sticking out of his thigh. The freckled man let go of Tommy, but still kept his hands wrapped around the bars.

“Do you see, Tommy? They only hurt you,” Dream was grinning. It was so, so unnerving seeing his face after being used to the mask for so long. There was something akin to triumph in the older blonde’s eyes, despite being locked in a cage. “You have to get me out. I’ll keep you safe. I’ve saved you so many times, it’s time for you to return the favor. Time for you to save me, Tommy.”

“I don’t know how!” Tommy felt frustrated tears well up in his eyes. “I— I don’t— they won’t give me keys. You know that. I don’t know how to get you out. Please. I want to. You know I want to. I just don’t know how.”

The grin on Dream’s face fell, shifting into something else that made the tears in the teen’s eyes actually fall. Seeing the disappointment on his only friend’s face was so, so much worse than just hearing it in his voice.

“Dream, please,” Tommy hiccuped, reaching forward, through the bars to grasp at him, to feel a semblance of comfort. “Please—”

Dream lurched backwards, physically recoiling away from Tommy’s hands. The teen paused, eyes wide in shock and hurt.

“You’re useless to me,” Dream spat, anger in his eyes.

Something snapped inside Tommy, and he curled into the sweatshirt Dream had given him, pulling the fabric tight around himself. “You don’t mean that,” he rasped weakly.

“I do. You’re nothing. If you can’t get me out, then you’re nothing,” Dream hissed.

“That’s enough,” a blonde haired man with a white hoodie knocked against the iron bars with a gleaming purple sword. Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin at the noise, not having noticed the man. “Shut up.”

Dream ignored the man. “You’re nothing but a pathetic, broken shell. Breaking you was fun, but it’s clear you don’t have any use to me other than entertainment.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tommy repeated, his throat closing up as it became harder to breathe. “You said you cared about me,” his voice was barely audible, eyes wide as he trembled, hesitating. “You said you cared about me. That you were the only one who cared about me. You aren’t supposed to lie. You aren’t a liar. You— you—”

Tommy couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. Dream wasn’t a liar. Dream never lied. But two things that Dream had said were now contradicting each other and it DIDN’T MAKE SENSE. Dream never lied to him. He always told him the truth. But how could he always tell him the truth if two things he said were against each other? HE DIDN’T KNOW.

Dream helped him when he didn’t know things. That’s what Dream was supposed to do. But Dream was the source of the problem. But Dream wasn’t supposed to be the problem, Dream was supposed to help him!

There was a grin on Dream’s face, a grin that Tommy remembered hearing so many times but had never seen before. A grin he knew so well, knowing from experience only brought pain and confusion, and then later comfort that was laced with a feeling of WRONG that he had to smother before it showed on his face, lest more pain come his way.

“I never cared about you, Tommy,” Dream told him, his voice slipping into the comforting one that it often had when Tommy was confused like this.

That tone paired with those words was only making him reel more. The words weren’t right for this tone— that’s not what Dream was supposed to say! He was supposed to help. He was supposed to pull him into a hug and HELP him.

Dream’s grinning, unmasked face was the last thing Tommy saw before everything went blank, as reality and what he thought was reality clashed.

Everything he thought he knew was crumbling around him, and Tommy was crumbling with it.

The world faded into a swirling mass of gray, seeping away everything. It took away the pain in his knee and his head. It took away the confusion, the hurt, the hollowness in his heart.

It felt as if a million ants were crawling across his skin as everything just went blank.

The world around him was a deep stone gray. The same color stained his palms and dripped from his hands as if he was holding dye, but he wasn’t.

The last little bit of him snapped, and he let himself fade into the void of numbness, of nothingness, of emptiness.

The tiny, tiny bit of blue he’d been clinging on to was slipping away, faster than he could reach. But he wasn’t reaching for it. He didn’t want to stop it.

Even the green that had wormed its way into his world uninvited was now slipping through his fingers. He let it go, watching dully as the two once vibrant colors melted into the same misty gray that surrounded him, gone.

Eyes were the windows to the soul.

Tommy’s soul was nothing but a gray, numb, cold ball.

And he welcomed it with open arms, embracing the void as it swept him away into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) -R and Eci
> 
> [P.S. come read Oneirataxia in the meantime~~](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28596630/chapters/70085865#workskin)

**Author's Note:**

> Eci’s Twitter: [@ecinue_unicorn](https://twitter.com/ecinue_unicorn)  
> R’s Twitter: [@Rose12610](https://twitter.com/Rose12610)  
> R’s Tumblr: [@alwaysananxiousmess](https://alwaysananxiousmess.tumblr.com/)  
> Eci’s Tumblr: [@ecinue-unicorn](https://ecinue-unicorn.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I’m putting my lovely friend Eci down on as a coauthor because this fic would not exist without their help with ideas and prompts. Please please PLEASE go check them out and read their stuff! They are an amazing author and is a pleasure to be working with them on this.


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